


Spark

by Ashtree28



Category: Gemma Doyle Trilogy - Libba Bray
Genre: A Great And Terrible Beauty, Alcohol, F/F, Fluff, Happy, Kind of AU, Oneshot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3497669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtree28/pseuds/Ashtree28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'“Do you really think I will find true love someday?” Pippa’s voice is quiet, almost a murmur in the darkness. Felicity turns to gaze at her best friend, surprise written across her expression. The lantern-light causes her pale skin to glow, luminous as the moon, and her grey eyes burn silver. She really is rather beautiful, Pippa finds herself thinking as she meets Fee’s sharp gaze.'</p>
<p>A short AU ficlet in which Fee and Pip have a tipsy conversation about love and changing their bleak-looking futures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the first meeting of ‘the New Order’ in chapter thirteen of ‘A Great and Terrible Beauty’. I know it’s a little unrealistic and fluffy based on its position in the story, but I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head. So suspend your belief and allow yourself to forget how heartbreaking Crossington is just for now…

The night is black as pitch, save for the glowing orbs of four lanterns weaving through the trees. The trees flicker eerily in the semi-darkness of candlelight. Gemma is clutching the diary of Mary Dowd to her chest, stumbling every so often on roots, followed closely by Ann, who is gazing around the dark trees as though expecting something to jump out at her. They look rather ridiculous, and Felicity snickers at their anxiety.

She feels much too comfortable to be worried about getting back to Spence in a hurry. The liquor they have been drinking has left a heavy warmth in her chest and a pleasant fog in her thoughts – she is setting a more languid pace, twirling the bottle of whiskey in her hands. Pippa walks beside her, swinging the lantern gently, deep in thought. Pip’s lovely violet eyes are fixed on the ground, and her brow is deeply furrowed.

“Do you really think I will find true love someday?” Pippa’s voice is quiet, almost a murmur in the darkness. Felicity turns to gaze at her best friend, surprise written across her expression. The lantern-light causes her pale skin to glow, luminous as the moon, and her grey eyes burn silver. _She really is rather beautiful,_ Pippa finds herself thinking as she meets Fee’s sharp gaze.

“Of course you will, darling Pip.” Felicity puts an arm around her friend, pulling her close as they walk, moving even slower now. Gemma and Ann are nowhere to be seen, quickly scurrying back to their rooms. They hadn’t had quite as much whiskey as Fee and Pip had, and evidently weren’t drunk enough to not be worried about being caught. _Or maybe they are just more easily frightened,_ Felicity thinks, enjoying the thought. She takes another sip of alcohol, squeezing Pip’s waist.

“You are a beautiful girl from a good family. You shall have your choice of men - Parisian men - when we get out of this frightful school.” The sweet, medicinal scent of whiskey washes over Pippa, and she takes the bottle from Felicity’s hand to have a sip. The strong liquor makes her wince, but she brazenly drinks a large mouthful. Fee squeezes her gently again, leaning over to press her lips to Pippa’s cheek. Pip suppresses a sudden shiver.

“Besides,” Felicity continues, a strange edge to her voice, “we are women of the Order now. The goddesses heard our hearts’ desires, did they not?” She releases Pippa and twirls away from her, moonlight-bright hair flying. Pippa giggles a little at her antics, skipping to catch up.

“Our lives are going to change, Pip. We shan’t be powerless any longer! I can feel it, can’t you?” Felicity spins again, but this time she stumbles a little, clutching at Pippa’s hand for balance, but neither are steady after the whiskey.

Felicity goes down first, hitting the ground with a yelp and dragging Pippa down with her. Pip’s lantern rolls away, the candle spluttering out, and she lands heavily on top of Fee.

“Bloody hell,” curses the blonde in a growly voice, wriggling beneath Pippa. Somehow Pip’s cloak has become tangled around Felicity’s legs, and they struggle in vain for a few moments. Fee huffs impatiently, and Pip can’t help the small giggle that bursts from her lips.

Fee looks surprised for a second, staring up into Pippa’s face, mere inches from her own, before she gives into laughter too. It is a fairly ridiculous – and highly scandalous – situation: two tipsy girls, stumbling around the Spence grounds at night. Gemma and Ann are long forgotten, and there is a strange air about the two girls, as though they have entered another world where only the two of them exist.

Pippa pulls herself into a sitting position, bracing her hand on the ground to push herself to her feet, but Fee presses her fingers into her friend’s arm.

“Oh, let’s sit for a moment. My head is spinning like a whirlpool.” Felicity rolls onto her back, shifting to rest her head in Pip’s lap. They sit in silence, Pippa picking at the dried candle wax on her fingers and Fee plucking tufts of grass. The only light comes from the full moon now, as the candle sits uselessly extinguished inside the lantern. Pippa takes a shaky breath, unsure why she feels so nervous.

“Are you really going to... _have_ many men?” Pippa’s voice doesn’t sound like her own, and she feels her cheeks colour at the very question. It feels indecent to even bring up the topic of conversation, especially for the second time in one evening, but Pip can’t help her curiosity. Fee has always been the more outspoken of the two. As much as she blushes and squeals, Pip secretly loves hearing her talk so brazenly about something so forbidden. Felicity doesn’t answer for a long moment, plucking at the hem of her cloak.

“I... I don’t know.” Felicity sounds uncharacteristically vulnerable, and Pippa sneaks a glance at her friend’s face – the normally smooth forehead is creased with worry. Fee stares at nothing, pensive for a second, before the charming smile returns as though it never left.

She sits up, almost nose to nose with Pippa, and Pip feels her breath catch in her chest. Fee’s pale fingers lace through hers, and Pippa looks down to stare at their slim hands woven together. It looks right somehow, as though their hands are carved from a single block of marble, made to fit together.

They had always been very close friends - holding hands, and kissing cheeks, and hugging each other with an intense kind of intimacy. But this is something new. This is hands twined together delicately and deliberately, a slim thumb stroking soft skin, feather-light squeezes that feel like promises. It is almost hypnotizing to Pip, the way Felicity’s fingers are sending waves of warmth up her arm.

“Maybe we should never marry,” Felicity whispers in that husky voice, her eyes glowing like jewels in the darkness, and Pip meets her eyes again, utterly startled. “We can live together in a little house with a garden overlooking the ocean, and wear pants instead of corsets and petticoats, and have as many or as few men as we like, and smoke cigars and never do what anyone tells us we must.” Her words chase each other from her mouth, nervous and excited.

In this tiny, hushed world inhabited by just the two of them, Fee’s insane proposition sounds perfect, even realistic. Pippa inhales sharply. _No awful arranged marriages to old men. No parents prodding and fussing. Only Fee and I._

“Yes,” Pippa whispers back, feeling as though she is making a solemn pact, though her heart rises with joy at the thought of spending her life with Fee in Paris. Her eyes fall to Felicity’s lips for reasons she cannot explain. They are full and pink, still glistening slightly from the whiskey. Pip cannot help but compare her best friend’s mouth to those of the men she has thought of kissing in her most private moments. Fee’s mouth looks so much more luscious. Delectable... like a sweet, ripe berry she longs to savour.

When Pip’s gaze returns to the grey eyes, she can feel her face growing warm, as though Felicity could know what she is thinking. She almost expects to see disgust, shock, fear in Fee’s eyes. But no. There is something entirely new hidden in their silvery depths. Pippa is astonished to realise she knows this expression well – she sees it in the eyes of her suitors, in the gazes of men in the street, even occasionally in the dull leering of Mr. Bumble.

_Lust._

Seeing this fire burning in the eyes of her best friend alarms Pippa, but what shocks her even more is that she feels her own eyes alight with the same blaze. Before either of them have a chance to think it through, their lips are gently pressed together.

It is Pip’s first kiss and, _oh_ , how wonderful it is. Fee’s mouth tastes of warm whiskey, but her lips are smooth and gentle. Hesitantly, the blonde girl pulls her hand from Pippa’s, and then fingers are sweetly cupping her cheeks. Their mouths move together for a long, suspended moment, before Fee breaks the kiss, eyes opening wide. Her fingertips skim Pip’s face as she pulls away, leaving tiny trails of fire on her skin.

The silence that follows is heavy. The forest seems to fall still, wind abruptly ceasing, as though the very earth itself is as shocked as the two girls are. Pippa’s eyes are huge and dark in her face, chest hitching with startled breaths.

“Is this... Was that...” Felicity begins, but is uncharacteristically speechless, and the two fall into silence again. Pippa finds she cannot tear her eyes from Fee’s. It all feels so wrong – two girls having lust for each other, it simply cannot be right – and yet Pip has never felt anything like this before. Her heart is racing in her throat, and a warmth completely unrelated to that of the whiskey has settled in her abdomen.

“Are you... are you alright?” Fee’s voice is small and hesitant. Pippa doesn’t respond, biting her lip. Felicity’s eyes automatically drop to the pearly teeth digging into the full lip, face flickering with a shadow of the lust she had fully displayed a few moments earlier. Pip’s heart jumps, fluttering harder than before.

She stares at Felicity’s face, and for a brief, shining moment she can see their future. Warm Parisian sun kissing their skin as they sit in a rose garden, free from the confines of English society, unmarried and happy together. Suspended in this beautiful dream, Pip reaches out a hand towards Fee’s, entwining their fingers again.

“I... I think I am,” Pippa responds, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. The smile that lights Felicity’s face is the most beautiful thing Pippa has ever seen, full of hope and love and, strongest of all, relief.

Fee stands without dropping Pip’s hand, pulling her gently to her feet, and the two walk back toward Spence. Their fingers stay interlocked the entire way. It isn’t until Felicity whispers a tender “goodnight, darling Pip” against her cheek and glides out the door like a stray beam of moonlight that Pippa realises she no longer feels the slightest bit drunk.


End file.
